


Mambo No5

by vulpixel



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, idk what else to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 06:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28466580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulpixel/pseuds/vulpixel
Summary: a new years fic based off one of the funniest tweets ive ever seen as well as an inside joke i have with some friends
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Mambo No5

The club is busy on New Year's Eve. Crowds of people pack every inch of available space. Ingrid can feel herself suffocating as drunk people gyrate around her. This must be a fire hazard of some kind. She sticks close to her friend Dorothea, using all her strength to keep her in sight.

"I love this song!" Dorothea exclaims. She loves every song. She is hopelessly drunk, and perhaps Ingrid should be too.

Two shots later, and Ingrid is happily drunk attempting to dance on the dancefloor. The speakers thump with loud music, making any thoughts impossible. A sweaty mass of bodies surround her, gyrating erratically. The two break for another drink. Ingrid emerges from the dancefloor a sweaty mess.

Dorothea leans against the wall sipping on a martini. Ingrid chugs a pint of beer to cool herself down. Despite the howling winter outside, the club burns hot with the collective sweaty body heat of everyone around.

“Have you decided who to kiss yet? Or are you just gonna go for the nearest person when the time comes?” Dorothea asks, nudging her friend playfully.

“I don’t know yet,” Ingrid responds, “Can’t I just kiss you again?”

“Not this year. You need to spread my teachings to all the other hot girls out there.”

“Ugh, that’s too much work.”

“Oh, c’mon. Like you won’t enjoy it. And you better choose soon. You have thirty minutes,” her friend says.

“Well, you gotta find someone too.”

“Oh, I’ve already chosen.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Dorothea points across the room. “I want her.”

Ingrid turns her gaze to see the person in question. The woman sticks out like a sore thumb. “You mean the woman who looks like she’s dressed for church and not a gay club?”

“Yes. Her. She’s gorgeous.”

Ingrid laughs. “Good luck trying to kiss the preacher’s daughter. You’ll probably have to marry her before you can even hold hands.”

“Oh, Ingrid, you underestimate me.” Dorothea winks at her. “I think I can show her what heaven feels like.”

“Good luck.”

“You too, killer.”

The clock ticks down, and Ingrid still hasn’t found someone. Everyone is either a man or sadly taken. She wishes she could just kiss Dorothea again. That would be so much easier. She’s only here for the booze anyway.

She’s about to give up and find Dorothea, but instead runs smack into another person. She stumbles back in a daze.

“Watch it,” a voice huffs at her.

When her vision clears, she comes face to face with the angriest woman Ingrid has ever seen. She is just barely taller than Ingrid, but only due to her tall boots. Dark hair obscures her face, and Ingrid can barely make her out under the dim lights. Her pale skin seems to glow, but everything else about her is insanely goth right down to her ripped jeans and My Chemical Romance shirt. Her eyeliner is sharp as a blade, and she has a permanent scowl across her face. It might be the alcohol, but Ingrid finds herself very into it. Her heart skips a beat.

Now’s her chance.

Ingrid hikes her jeans up and straightens the collar of her Hawaiian shirt, mustering the courage to talk to this dangerous woman. She clears her throat. “Hello.”

_Hello? Really?_ Ingrid scolds herself in her head. She knows she can do better than that.

But the woman doesn’t seem to mind. Although, her tone seems a bit disinterested. “Hello. You should watch where you’re walking.”

“Really? Because I was hoping I would run into the most beautiful person in this bar tonight,” Ingrid says, getting herself back into the groove. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but that was smooth.

“You sound just like my friend. Maybe you should talk to him instead.”

“But I want to talk to you, and perhaps buy you a drink.”

The woman scoofs, yet still agrees, “I suppose I can’t turn down a free drink.”

So Ingrid saunters over to the bar with the woman following behind her. She chivalrously lets her guest take the chair while she stands. They both end up with something fruity and very alcoholic. Ingrid is pleasantly warm as the alcohol sets into her body. The taste lingers on her tongue, and it makes her wonder what the other woman’s lips taste like.

Not until midnight. Ingrid has to remind herself. Until then, she can enjoy every other aspect of this woman. For example, the way her eyes examine her body like a predator getting ready to pounce. She bites her lip. They find themselves incredibly close. Hands find themselves in places they shouldn’t be.

“You know, I don’t usually go for the dad types,” the woman says, tugging at Ingrid’s belt loop.

“And I don’t usually go for goths, yet here we are,” Ingrid answers. She glances over to spot Dorothea in the crowd. She catches sight of her with another woman.

Suddenly, the music softens, catching both their attention. Tension builds in the crowd. The DJ speaks.

“It’s almost time for the new year!” He announces. A wave of cheers follow.

Ingrid looks to the woman next to her. She seems content, and her lips are looking extra kissable. Both of them have certainly had enough to drink so it won’t at all be awkward.

“Ten! Nine!” The crowd counts along. Although, some have their timing horribly off.

Neither Ingrid or her new lady friend care. Their eyes remain locked under the neon lights.

_Three! Two! One!_

Suddenly, greedy lips are upon hers. Ingrid wraps her arms around the other woman and pulls her closer.

Their lips part, and they both gaze at each other. Loud cheers fill the room followed by music. Ingrid can barely hear it all.

“You’re beautiful,” she says.

“And you’re quite handsome yourself,” the woman answers.

“What’s your name?”

“Felix.”

Panic strikes Ingrid. She looks at Felix in shock. It all hits her at once. “Felix? Like Felix Hugo Fraldarius? That Felix?”

“Have we met before?” He looks at her suspiciously.

“Uh, my name’s Ingrid Galatea.”

“Ingrid?” His eyes go wide. “From high school?”

“Oh, my god. I just kissed my childhood best friend.” Ingrid reaches for her drink.

“I just kissed a woman!” Felix gags.

“And I kissed a man!”

“I couldn’t recognize you with how short your hair has gotten. You look completely different.”

“And your hair has gotten much longer. I can barely recognize you with all that makeup on.”

They stare at each other a moment, still processing the whole event. Then, Ingrid bursts out laughing. Felix does the same.

“Happy New Year, dude.”

“You too, Ingrid.”

When all is said and done, Ingrid leaves the bar a changed woman. She drags Dorothea behind her. The woman giggles with glee, still happily inebriated. A light snow falls on the world. It is wonderfully quiet except for the occasional cheering or car passing.

“How was your kiss?” Dorothea asks her friend.

“It went fine,” Ingrid says, refusing to elaborate.

“Mine was heavenly. Literally. I think I kissed an angel.”

“Good for you.”

“I got her number too. How about you?”

“I already have his number,” Ingrid mutters.

“What?” Dorothea immediately catches on.

“I’ll tell you later. Or never.”

**Author's Note:**

> based off this tweet  
> 


End file.
